The Island Won't Let You
by TheHornyVirgin
Summary: Another side of John Locke is revealed. This story is written for joshholloway. The story was his idea; I just wrote it for him. : PLease R&R!


It was a typical day on the Island. People scurried here and there, building shelters, sorting luggage, arguing at each other over nothing. The waves were larger than normal, lapping up onto the sandy beach with force enough to knock someone over if they got in the way. The tide was beginning to come in, washing suitcases and wreckage from the plane out into the water. Several people frantically rushed about the shore, retrieving the luggage from the ever-moving water before it was washed out to sea. The sun shone bright in the cloudless sky, beating down upon the beach, making the sand hot. A slight, cool breeze blew across the beach as Boone crossed the hot sand. He walked over to where a certain blonde sat, reading the latest issue of Allure magazine.

"Glad to see you're doing something productive with your time." Boone said as he picked up a bottle of water.

"Where have you been?" Shannon asked, looking up from reading about Gucci's latest design.

"What do you mean where have I been?" Boone asked, taking a long, refreshing drik of water.

"You and Locke have been leaving before sunrise and coming back after sunset for the past four days. What are you doing out there?" Shannon asked.

Boone tride to ignor her.

"Is he your new boyfriend?" Shannon teased.

"We're looking for Claire." Boone said, rolling his eyes.

"I thought there was no trail to follow--that no one knew where to look." Shannon said.

"Yeah, well, at least I'm doing something." Boone said, sounding rather irritated, "Don't you see the way they look at us around here? They don't take us seriously. We're a joke. I;m trying to contribute something. You're just--you're useless."

Boone stuffed the bottle of water into his backpack and walked off, not waiting to see Shannon's reaction. He made his way over to where Jack kept the axe hidden underneath a pile of inconspicuous wreckage. He looked around to mae sure no one was watching before he carefully moved the wreckage aside. He picked up the axe and quickly darted into the jungle. He walked until he found the barely-noticeable trail made by he and Locke that they used for going to and from the Hatch they had discovered just a few days earlier. He followed the trail for about a mile before he came across Locke sitting beside a banyan tree waiting for him.

"You got it?" Locke asked, standing up.

"Yeah. Right here." Boone said, handing the axe to Locke, "Isn't there an easier way to get there?"

"The easiest way isn't always the best." Locke said, "Did anyone see you take it?"

"No. I don't think so." Boone said, moving a vine aside out of his way.

"Well, which is it?" Locke asked.

"Sorry?" Boone asked.

"No? Or 'I don't think so'?" Locke asked.

"No." Boone answered.

"Good. Let's get to work." Locke said.

Boone and Locke made their way through the dense trees, vines, and brush of the jungle. The one thing Boone always dreaded about coming out here to help Locke dig up this unknown piece of metal was the long walk; the digging site was almost a mile-and-a-half walk through the dense foliage of the jungle. By the time they reached their digging site, both of them were sweating and panting. Boone took a bottle of water from his backpack and took a long, soothing drink. Setting their backpacks down, they began the very tedious task of excivating the hatch-like piece of metal stuck in the ground. They used several different 'tools' for digging away the damp earth of the jungle. Sometimes they used their hands, sometimes they used sticks, and other times they used crude shovels constructed from debris from the plane. But it didn't matter what they used, they simply could not find a way to open this hatch.

Using a 'shovel' made from a bit of plane wreckage, Boone set to work digging away the dirt and leaf matter that surrounded the hatch. It didn't take long for him to start sweating from the jungle's heat and humidity. He stood up from stooping down and felt a painful twinge in his back. He winced and picked up his bottle of water. He took a long drink and poured some of its cool contents over his arms and rubbed some on the back of his neck to cool himself off. He sat down beside a banyan tree for a rest. He watched as Locke continued to dig, using his hands. He was panting and sweating as well.

"Why are we doing this?" he asked after several minutes.

"What?" Locke asked, standing up for a momentary break.

"What are we doing out here? We're digging up some piece of metal in the middle of the jungle. We've been doing the same thing for nearly a week; there's nothing down there." Boone said, standing up, "I'm done."

Boone grabbed up his backpack and started to walk off. He had gone about fifteen feet when he was suddenly grabbed from behind. He was roughly spun around and pushed against a tree, finding himself staring into the enraged face of John Locke.

"What are you--" Boone said, but he was cut off.

"You don't get to quit." Locke said, tighening his grip on Boone's arm, "The Island doesn't want you to quit. We have to do this."

"Let go of me!" Boone said, struggling.

"You try to walk away from me again and I'll make a believer out of you." Locke said in a low, unfamiliar voice.

He released Boone's arm and turned back to his tedious work. Still in shock, Boone followed him and went back to work.


End file.
